The Lord of the Things The Two Glowers
by Hobbit-eyes
Summary: YES! ITS BACK! The sequel to the Fellowship of the Thing. Ferry and Alippin have been captured by urks, Jam and Clodo are heading for Bordor, Legless and Giblet are fighting, and Begorn is, um, fine. Chapter 6 up (sorry it's taken so long!)
1. Synopses, cat fights and so on

YES!!! IT IS BACK AT LAST!!!!!! Please R+R!!!  
  
Chapter 1 - Synopses, cat fights and earthquakes in sports bags  
  
The adventure begins as the last one ended. The Thing of Power, made by Moron in Mt. Waterflume, had come to Clodo Leggings of the Mire. She, under the advice (and threats) of Kandalf, set off to Riverstour with her companions: Jam, Ferry and Alippin. Fobbits are usually very lazy beings, and know few people, so Clodo really got to see the world, and meet new people.  
  
It's a pity most of them were trying to kill her.  
  
They had many adventures along the way, including Clodo getting a paper cut and being attacked by the Tweenies.  
  
At Riverstour the Sleepover of El Rondo was held, and it was decided that Clodo would attempt to take Thing to Bordor, and destroy it. Chosen to go with her were: Begorn, Izzybore's heir, who was the bearer of Clearasil; Kandalf the witch; Legless the boff from Berkwood; Giblet the bitch; Tiramisu heir to the Stewardship of Fondue; and Jam, Ferry and Alippin tagged along.  
  
After attempting to pass through the Gap of Terry Wogan and over Escalas, they were forced to go through the Toilets of Toria. There, after being ambushed by Urks, they were attacked by the Juvrog. While banishing it, Kandalf fell into a U-bend.  
  
They continued on their quest, after a brief stop at Lothloreal. After travelling down the river, Tiramisu tried to take the Thing from Clodo. But they were set upon by Urks - Clodo and Jam got away, Tiramisu was shot by her own arrow and Ferry and Alippin were captured by Urks. Waddler, Legless and Giblet set off after them, to attempt to rescue them. Don't ask me why.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Ferry and Alippin woke up in one of the urk's sports bags. It smelt like something had died in there which, Ferry thought, may soon be the case. By the way the bag was shaking, they were either running or there was an earthquake.  
  
"AAAAAAH," screamed Ferry, "It's an earthquake!"  
  
"Cool," said Alippin. Ferry continued to scream continuously for about an hour, until an Urk hit the bag.  
  
"Shut UP!" it said.  
  
"Why? It's an earthquake," said Ferry.  
  
"No it's not! We're simply taking you to Sarumeanie."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"So that he can torture you."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"So that you will give him the Thing of Power."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because he wants it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"..... Because he does."  
  
"But we don't have the Thing of Powuuurk." Ferry fell asleep, and Alippin was glad that Jam had taught her the sleeper hold.  
  
"What was that? Are you OK?" asked the Urk.  
  
"Cool!" called out Alippin.  
  
"Good - Sarumeanie said that we had to get you there alive," said the Urk.  
  
"Hmmmm," said Ferry who had just woken up, "That gives me an idea..."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Meanwhile, Begorn, Legless and Giblet were trekking across the countryside after the Urks. The clues which they followed were scarce, and Begorn's skill was greatly needed. Only he could have interpreted the signs saying 'Diehard, Sarumeanie's residence, This Way', and the mass of urk footprints. But the Pringles were running low, as were endurance levels.  
  
"Why do we have to do this?" grumbled Giblet, "I never liked them that much anyway."  
  
"Stop complaining jerk," said Legless.  
  
"Twit."  
  
"Halitosis."  
  
"Poser."  
  
"Midget."  
  
"Daddy-Long-Legs."  
  
"Shut UP!" said Begorn, wishing that Kandalf was still there; at least she could have a conversation without picking fights. "We have to do this cos we're the good guys. They're the bad guys."  
  
"Who - Ferry and Alippin?" said Giblet.  
  
"No, the URKS, no brain," said Legless.  
  
"Brainbox."  
  
"Troll."  
  
"Pretty boy."  
  
"Shut UP!" said Begorn, "Lets just keep going." The continued along the path. They had been tracking Ferry and Alippin for days now, and they still could not see the urks. But Begorn had forgotten his glasses, so maybe that's why.  
  
Suddenly some people on hobbyhorses came into his line of vision. They were about a mile ahead of them, and heading straight towards them.  
  
"Who are they?" asked Legless.  
  
"Oooooh, smartypants doesn't know something?" smirked Giblet, "I'm SHOCKED."  
  
"SHUT UP!" said Legless, "At least I have a brain!"  
  
This developed into a massive cat fight between the two of them, with much hair pulling.  
  
"Bitch!"  
  
"Boff!"  
  
"Heathen!"  
  
"Tree hugger!"  
  
"Loser!"  
  
"Jerk!"  
  
Meanwhile, Begorn watched the Riders draw nearer. 


	2. Highly professional lifts and luminous o...

Yet more randomness. I don't own LOTR or any of the characters.  
  
Chapter 2 - Highly professional lifts and luminous oriental snacks  
  
"Are we there yet?" asked Jam.  
  
"No," said Clodo, "Do you see that big hill?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Do you see those marshes?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Do you see a wall far behind them?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Bordor's in that wall."  
  
"Boooo." They carried on walking.  
  
It had been a week since they left the Fellowship to its fate with the urks. Bordor still seemed a long way off, and they were being followed by something wearing a luminous yellow puffa jacket and that smelt of special fried rice (the something, not the jacket.) Clodo and Jam were getting tired - they had eaten all of their ordinary food, and were stuck with the Pringles that Naladriel had given them.  
  
"This sucks," said Jam, "We're on our own, we're being followed by a luminous oriental snack, we're still far from, but travelling towards, a certain death, and we're eating something that has a slogan and is advertised by a talking head!"  
  
"Geez, cool it," said Clodo, "I'm sure it'll be OK." They had come to the top of a cliff. Jam wasn't very happy, as it was an awfully long way down.  
  
"I'm not happy," said Jam, "It's an awfully long way down."  
  
"We've still got those slinkies Naladriel gave us," pointed out Clodo, "I'm sure we could do something with those."  
  
"What about bungee jumping?" asked Jam.  
  
"OK," said Clodo. She anchored one of them to Jam's feet, and she jumped off the edge.  
  
"Aieee," screamed Jam. After about two minutes, Clodo was wondering why Jam still hadn't bounced up again. Suddenly she heard Jam's voice from somewhere quite far down.  
  
"Clodo!" she called, "We missed out an important part in our plan."  
  
"What was that?" asked Clodo.  
  
"You forgot to attach the other end to something," said a very disgruntled fobbit, who pulled herself back up to the top of the cliff.  
  
"Howdy," said Clodo, "So why are you still here with all remaining limbs?"  
  
"I got snagged on a tree branch, and managed to pull myself up, no thanks to you."  
  
"Goodie," said Clodo, "But a new plan is needed."  
  
So, with the slinkies, a piece of chewing gum, Jam's trusty whistle and 200g of self raising flour, they managed to make a highly professional lift.  
  
"You first," said Clodo.  
  
"Why me?" moaned Jam.  
  
"Because, I have a great knowledge of First Aid. Should you plummet to your end, I would be able to come down and try and revive you."  
  
"But I went first last time..." moaned Jam, "Why don't I stay here at hand with first aid knowledge, and you test the lift."  
  
"What a great idea!" said Clodo, "I stay here at hand with first aid knowledge, and you test the lift!"  
  
"Right," said Jam happily, and stepped in the lift. As the doors closed she suddenly said, "Hey, wait a minute-"  
  
"Bon Voyage," called Clodo cheerfully.  
  
Luckily Jam got down safely, and Clodo followed. They continued on their quest, but Jam was thoroughly pissed off.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Listen," said Ferry, speaking quietly inside the bag, "Here's the plan. We make no noise at all."  
  
"Cool."  
  
"They open the bag to check we're all right."  
  
"Cool."  
  
"You punch them, while I run for the bushes. Once they've beaten the hell out of you, I'll try and rescue you. Not promising anything though."  
  
"Cool," said Alippin, but she suddenly looked worried.  
  
"All right, all right," sighed Ferry, "We both beat them up, then both run for the bushes."  
  
"Cool!" beamed Alippin.  
  
* * * * *  
  
They clambered up to the top of a ridge. Far below them, they saw miles of stagnant ponds with various supermarket trolleys floating in them. Far beyond all of them, they saw a massive black city encircled by massive walls. In the middle was a tall mountain, out of which spurted water every few seconds.  
  
"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," said Clodo.  
  
"Duh," said Jam.  
  
"That'th Bwake Cowwidor," said a voice behind them. They span, and saw a small figure (about their size) dressed in the luminous puffa jacket with a carton of chinese food.  
  
"Who asked you?" asked Jam, drawing her light sabre.  
  
"Nobody," shrugged the fobbit sized figure, "But I thought you were talking to poor liddle me. I thought I'd made a fwend."  
  
"Hey..." said Clodo, "You're Bellum!"  
  
"Yeth!" said Bellum, "I knew you'd wemember me!"  
  
"Wem - sorry - remember you? I've never seen you before!"  
  
"Yeth you have!" said Bellum excitedly, "You ran into me in my cave! I thowed you the way out, coth you were lotht, but after I did, I wealithed you'd taken my... my..." Suddenly Bellum remembered, and she leapt at Clodo, "Give back my Preciouth!"  
  
"What?" said Clodo. Normally she would have said something more articulate and witty, but just 'What' is a pretty mean feat when you have hands round your neck. Jam rushed forward, and gave Bellum a sleeper hold.  
  
"That was close," said Clodo, brushing off Bellum, "What should we do now?"  
  
"We should high tail it away from here, Miss Clodo," said Jam, "I don't trust that... that... fobbit."  
  
"Language Jam!" said Clodo, "But I don't think we should just leave it here. It might go to Moron. Can't I keep it?"  
  
"No," said Jam. But at that moment, Bellum woke up.  
  
"Where wath I?" it asked, "Oh yeth! Give me back my Preciouth!" Bellum tried to get up, but found Jam and Clodo and anchored it to the ground with slinkies.  
  
"Hey! No fair! Two againtht one!" it moaned.  
  
"First of all..." began Clodo, "I am not who you think I am. Twas my auntie Albo who took the Thing-"  
  
"Is the here?" asked Bellum excitedly.  
  
"No, she is in Riverstour," said Jam.  
  
"Damn," muttered Bellum.  
  
"But..." continued Clodo, "You've been to Bordor before?"  
  
"Nah - thaw it on a Changing Woomth Thpecial; 'Motht Dethperate Digs'. Lauwenth Llelewyn-Bowen wath telling the urkth that purple wath the way to go, maybe with pink flowerth."  
  
"So that's why he suddenly disappeared..." said Jam.  
  
"Do you know the way there?" asked Clodo.  
  
"I might," said Bellum, "Who wanth to know?"  
  
"I, Albo's niece, and the new bearer of...the Thing!" With that she whisked it out, and held it just above Bellum's head.  
  
"My Preciouth!" hissed Bellum, jumping up to try and get it. Clodo strangely enjoyed holding it just out of reach, and watching Bellum try and get it. In the end Bellum gave up. "Why have you got it?" it panted, "Why do you thay you're the beawer of my Preciouth? Read my lipth - MY Preciouth."  
  
"Not yours anymore," said Clodo, "Nah nah nah nah nah."  
  
Bellum dissolved into fits of wails and sobs. Jam would have felt sorry for it, but every now and then it looked up to check Clodo was watching.  
  
"Shut up," said Jam, "You have a choice - you can either leave us here, where we will almost certainly be captured by Moron."  
  
"No! Me no wanna lothe my Preciouth."  
  
"Or...," said Jam, "You can show us the way on our journey. Then you can stay near the Thing, but you need to admit you have a Thing addiction."  
  
"Okay," said Bellum, "I...I..." It trailed off. It looked like a part of Bellum was trying to fight through. Either that or they wouldn't purchase Special Fried Rice from the Bordor deli. "I have a Thing addiction! Yeah! Go me!" said Bellum. It cheered. Suddenly its lisp was gone, and Bellum looked like just a really butt ugly fobbit.  
  
"Well done Bellum," smiled Clodo, "Acceptance is the first step on the path to recovery."  
  
"Nice Clodo," said Bellum, "Jam. Anyway, Bellum will show you the way through the Whiffy marshes." 


	3. The Riders of Wogan and talking trees th...

Thanks everyone who reviewed! Am not in a very articulate mood today, so just read the chapter.  
  
Chapter 3 - The Riders of Wogan and a talking tree that even bugs the author  
  
The Riders came up to them.  
  
Maybe they're friendly, thought Begorn hopefully.  
  
There was a vwing as a hundred light sabres were turned on.  
  
Perhaps not, thought Begorn, Damn.  
  
"I say, old chaps," said the nearest one, "What have we here?"  
  
"We are travellers following Urks," said Begorn, "I am Begorn; these are my friends, Legless the boff and Giblet the bitch."  
  
"Howdy," said Legless and Giblet, who had stopped fighting.  
  
"I say, how spiffing," said the nearest one, dismounting his hobby horse, "We just passed some urks. I am Mayomer, son of Theory, leader of the Riders of Wogan."  
  
"You passed Urks?" asked Begorn, "Were there fobbits among them?"  
  
"Fobbits?" asked Mayomer, "What a dandy word! What are they?"  
  
"Tiny things - smaller than bitches, but smarter."  
  
"That's not hard to be," said Legless.  
  
"Shut up fruitcake!" said Giblet.  
  
"Cupcake!"  
  
"Big nose!"  
  
"Small brain!"  
  
"I say, break it up, chaps," said Mayomer, "We didn't see any fobbits - we just each grabbed an Urk, pointed them towards a cliff, and let go."  
  
"Oh no," said Begorn, "Our friends are dead."  
  
All bowed their heads in silence.  
  
"Ah well, there are plenty more fobbits," said Giblet, shrugging, "Too many, by all accounts."  
  
"Emotionless frog," hissed Legless.  
  
"Sissy girl."  
  
"I SAY!" said Mayomer, "Do not call damsels sissy! My sister, Kéowyn, is a girl, and is jolly tough!"  
  
"You have a sister? Is she cute?" asked Giblet.  
  
"Yes, jolly cute," said Mayomer.  
  
"Interesting..." said Giblet.  
  
"Oh yeah, like you have a shot," said Legless.  
  
"I have a better shot than you, mascara," said Giblet.  
  
"Concealer."  
  
"Haute Couture."  
  
"High street shopper."  
  
"SHUT UP!" shouted Begorn.  
  
"I say, you are jolly good at that, old boy," said Mayomer.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Ready?" whispered Ferry.  
  
"Cool," whispered Alippin.  
  
They had been quiet for several hours, and an Urk often asked them if they were OK. It was time for it to ask again.  
  
"Hey! Weird things!" called the Urk, "You still alive?"  
  
No answer.  
  
"Are you just ignoring me cos we captured you, and are going to kill you?"  
  
No answer.  
  
"Cos that's just mean. I thought we were friends."  
  
No answer.  
  
"OK, I'm gonna check on you. You'd better still be alive, or I'll kill you."  
  
The Urk began to unzip the bag, and Ferry and Alippin grabbed their light sabres. Suddenly the air was filled with the shouts of "Tally ho!" and "What what!" They heard the Urk yell, then the sound of lots of feet running. Then it stopped. Then it started again, and they heard "Aaaaaahh....." They then heard the riders fade off into the distance. They climbed out of the bag, and surveyed their surroundings. Ferry came to a startling conclusion.  
  
"Hey!" she shouted, "They're all gone!"  
  
"Cool!" said Alippin.  
  
"Look! The footprints end at the cliff!"  
  
"Cool!"  
  
"Let's head for the forest. They might come back."  
  
"Cool."  
  
They went into the forest, which lay about a mile away. It was a forest very much like Lothloreal, but it looked like someone had turned the lights off. You could only see about two metres in any direction. Ferry and Alippin felt very nervous, and pulled out their Megalite torches. Suddenly they heard a loud booming voice, which made them jump, and land on each other's toes.  
  
"What have we here?" it said over the squeals of pain, "What is this 'Close Encounter of the Third Kind'? Were you looking for me, or is our 'Brief Encounter' pure 'Serendipity'?"  
  
"OH NO, IT'S BOM AGAIN!" yelled Ferry, jumping to her feet.  
  
"Bom? I am 'Clueless' to who that is," said the voice.  
  
"Oh, thank god," said Ferry, helping Alippin to her feet, "Who is it then?"  
  
"Meeweird."  
  
"I know, but what's your name?"  
  
"Meeweird!"  
  
"I KNOW! WHAT'S YOUR NAME!"  
  
"MEEWEIRD!"  
  
"I KNOW!!!!"  
  
"My name is Meeweird!"  
  
"Oh," said Ferry.  
  
"Cool," said Alippin. Meeweird showed himself. He looked like a massive tree.  
  
"Wow," said Ferry, "A massive tree that talks."  
  
"Cool," said Alippin.  
  
"No! You have just been 'Bedazzled'. But you are no 'Miss Congeniality'. But you are just 'The Sweetest Thing'. I am the head of the Mints. We live in the forest. So we are-"  
  
"The Mints in the Willows," groaned Ferry.  
  
"Aye! We are happy - 'It's a Wonderful Life'. But come, you 'Men in Black', or whatever you are, lets go to my 'Little House on the Prairie', and you can tell me what you're doing here. I'm sure it is 'A Knight's Tale'." He grabbed them both, and dangled them by their feet. He then set off into the forest.  
  
"We are on the run from urks of Sarumeanie," said Ferry.  
  
"Ooooh, 'The Abduction Club'. Wait...Sarumeanie has turned evil? 'Say it isn't So'! But we should have read the 'Signs'. This could mean 'Armageddon'. It will have a 'Deep Impact' on our lives."  
  
"Aye - he has fallen under the will of Moron."  
  
"So why is she against you? You don't look like 'An Officer and a Gentleman'. Are you 'Spy Kids'?"  
  
"No," said Ferry, "That would be cool though... We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."  
  
"Were you on a 'Road Trip'?"  
  
"No... It's a long story. Where is your house?"  
  
"In the 'Wild Wild West' of the forest."  
  
"Cool," said Alippin.  
  
"Here we are! 'Home of the Brave'. Here you can tell your tale of 'The Good, The Bad and the Ugly'." They entered a clearing. Inside were lots more massive trees.  
  
"Wow," said Ferry, "Lots more massive trees."  
  
"Cool," said Alippin.  
  
"These are my family," said Meeweird, "Tell your tale, little fobbits. We will then dine on 'American Pie' with 'Sugar and Spice'. But I'm hungry - I hope it is not a 'Never-ending Story'."  
  
Ferry told their tale. By the end of it, the Mints were spellbound.  
  
"'Jeepers Creepers', that's weird. But you are 'Alive'. We will fight that Sarumeanie! Come now - it is 'The Last Crusade'."  
  
"Cool!" said Alippin.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"...and that's how we came to be hunting Urks," finished Begorn.  
  
"I say, what a top hole story," said Mayomer, "But what a pickle we are in! Sarumeanie has become evil, the dingbat, and Kandalf is in a sorry state. But you may have hobbyhorses, and search for the dandy fobbits! It would be spiffing if they were alive, as I didn't see any among the Urks."  
  
"Thanks," said Begorn.  
  
"See, Legless?" said Giblet, "I didn't see the boffs giving us a means of transport."  
  
"Um, hello?" said Legless, "They gave us pedalos."  
  
"Ah, right, an amazing form of transport."  
  
"Shut up heathen."  
  
"Mama's boy."  
  
"Incredible stupidity."  
  
"Amazing vanity."  
  
"Worm."  
  
"Slug."  
  
"Shut up," said Begorn, "If we find the fobbits, we will come to Megoras."  
  
"Spiffing, spiffing," said Mayomer.  
  
"Ooooh, does Kéowyn live there?" asked Legless excitedly, pulling out his eyebrow tweezers.  
  
"Yeah right, she'll like you, pretty boy."  
  
"Brat."  
  
"Self-righteous."  
  
"No conscience."  
  
"Nostril plucker."  
  
"Halitosis."  
  
"Shut up," said Begorn.  
  
"Come on boys, back to Megoras!" cried Mayomer.  
  
"ALL FOR ONE AND ONE FOR ALL!" they chorused, and galloped away.  
  
"That's just sad," said Giblet, shaking his head.  
  
"You know what's sadder?" said Legless, "The way you actually think people listen to you."  
  
"Tic tac."  
  
"Bitch."  
  
"Gnat."  
  
"No-brain."  
  
"Big head."  
  
"Idiot."  
  
"Loser."  
  
"Shut up," said Begorn, "Come on." 


	4. The Fashionable Bouncer

I know everyone hates these author notes, so I won't bother going on for too long. Thanks everyone who reviewed! And I just noticed that in an early chapter, Bellum calls Bordor Brake Corridor; this is because I first set this story around my school, but I changed the names before I put it up here. I kinda forgot to change that one. oops..  
  
Chapter 4 - The Fashionable Bouncer  
  
They set off down the path to Bordor. Bellum was walking ahead, but every now and then turned to check the fobbits were still there.  
  
"Do you really think it's better?" asked Jam.  
  
"Yes. Either that, or it never had a lisp, and was just putting it on."  
  
"Like everyone said Gareth Gates was, with his stammer?"  
  
"Yeah. But it seems friendly now."  
  
"Who, Gareth Gates?"  
  
"No! Bellum," said Clodo, "I really don't think it'll betray us."  
  
"I hope so," said Jam, "We both know what damage a fobbit can do."  
  
They both looked at each other, then burst out laughing.  
  
* * * * *  
  
They travelled for many day through the Whiffy Marshes. Bellum was very unhappy, but continued to lead them between shopping trolleys and coke cans, and water that had goodness knows what in it. They stretched for miles on end, and at the end, there was Bordor. Whoop-dee-dee, thought Jam.  
  
"Hey, Bellum," said Clodo, "Why are all these ponds so polluted?"  
  
"You don't want to know," said Bellum, "Let's just say Bordor never invested in a sewage system."  
  
"Oh," said Jam, "Ewwwww."  
  
"Icky," said Clodo.  
  
A great stench from rolled off the Whiffy Marshes into the fobbits' faces. Luckily their noses had never really recovered from the Toilets of Toria, so they did not pass out. Others were not so lucky.  
  
"C'mon, wake up, Bellum," said Clodo, "Jam, it's been asleep for ages. You didn't do a sleeper hold on it, did you?"  
  
"No! Maybe it's dead," she said hopefully.  
  
Suddenly the air was filled with 'Boing...boing...boing'.  
  
"What's that?" asked Jam.  
  
"I don't know," said Clodo.  
  
Suddenly they heard 'Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee!'  
  
"Strawberry Salami!" yelled Clodo, "It's the Fashionable Riders!"  
  
"Ai ai ai," said Jam.  
  
"Where are they?" asked Clodo.  
  
They all looked desperately around them. Suddenly Jam spotted a figure rise and fall on the horizon.  
  
"THEY'RE ON POGO STICKS!!" she shrieked.  
  
"This new devilry we could not have foreseen," said Clodo.  
  
"Yeah we could," said Jam, "Pogo sticks are on the cover of all the 'What's hot and What's not' magazines. They're the new 'in' thing."  
  
"Shut up," said Clodo.  
  
"Yes Miss Clodo," said Jam. With that they threw themselves to the ground, covering themselves with the camouflage jackets Naladriel had given them.  
  
"These are useful," said Clodo.  
  
"As well as being in the 'What's hot' magazine," said Jam.  
  
Suddenly Bellum woke up.  
  
"Ahhh," it said, "Twas a Fashionable Bouncer! They want to get Bellum! Poor Bellum! Must use Jam as a human shield." It grabbed onto Jam.  
  
"Noooo..." said Jam, shaking Bellum off, "They want to get Clodo. Clodo."  
  
"Oh," said Bellum, "Okay then."  
  
But Jam began to get suspicious of Bellum. The way it read Snow White, then asked Clodo if she liked apples. The way it read 'Assassins Monthly'. And the way Jam saw it hovering behind Clodo, muttering to itself.  
  
"Bad Clodo, her auntie took my Preciouth, ith mine weally, the thtole it," it muttered. Jam gasped - it was impersonating Gareth Gates again. The resemblance was uncanny.  
  
"What was that Bellum?" she asked.  
  
"Nothing," said Bellum. But Jam noticed that Bellum began to avoid using the letter S in its words.  
  
* * * * *  
  
They drew nearer and nearer to Bordor.  
  
"You weally want to go to Bordor?" asked Bellum, "Bordor vewy dangewo- pewilou- bad."  
  
"Why did you begin all those words," asked Jam, "And not finish them?"  
  
"I looked for the right word," said Bellum, "For maximum effect."  
  
"And you chose - bad."  
  
"Affirmative."  
  
"Why don't you say yes?"  
  
"I have my motive."  
  
"Motive?" asked Clodo, "I really ought to lend you my thesaurus."  
  
"And why are you saying 'w' instead of 'r' again?" asked Jam, getting out the thumbscrews and shining a light in Bellum's eyes.  
  
"I didn't," said Bellum.  
  
"Yes you did," said Jam.  
  
"Didn't," said Bellum.  
  
"Did."  
  
"Didn't"  
  
"Shut up," said Clodo, "You're as bad as Legless and Giblet."  
  
Jam was about to question Bellum, but was so shocked by the insult that she was silent. Jam glanced at Clodo. Her friend was changing, no doubt about it. Jam noticed many big changes in her. For example, Clodo had switched from 'Garnier Nutrisse' to 'L'Oreal' shampoo. Jam shook her head sadly; the Thing was overpowering her friend.  
  
When she looked up again (which wasn't for a while, since Jam had noticed that her laces were untied and she didn't want to fall over) they had drawn within sight of the Big Gate of Bordor. They soon saw a ticket booth, with prices nailed on the side.  
  
'WELCOME TO BORDOR!  
  
DON'T DROP LITTER, DONATE IT TO OUR FURNACES SO WE CAN CONTINUE TO MAKE ARMOUR FOR OUR URKS TO TAKE OVER MIDDLE SCHOOL.  
  
ADMISSION FEES:  
  
ADULTS - £1  
  
CHILDREN + OAPS- 50P  
  
FOBBITS WISHING TO RETURN THE THING OF POWER AND BRING ABOUT THE DESTRUCTION OF MORON AND HISTORY - £1,000,000,000  
  
ALL FUNDS WILL BE DONATED TO MORON'  
  
"Damn," said Jam, emptying her pockets, "I don't have a billion pounds. Do you?"  
  
"Nah, sorry," said Clodo, "I knew I shouldn't have bought that last packet of Wine Gums."  
  
"Don't worry," said Bellum, "I know another way wound. A path through mountain, to the back door of Bordor."  
  
"Goodie," said Clodo.  
  
"What's the catch?" said Jam suspiciously (and promptly falling flat on her face), "I've seen 'The Mummy Returns' enough times to know that there's always a catch."  
  
Bellum seemed to struggle with itself for a minute.  
  
"Want some Deflatine?" asked Clodo.  
  
"No, I don't need it," said Bellum, after much effort. Clodo took a step back. "No! No catch, an elementawy path, no howwific-"  
  
"What?" asked Jam.  
  
"Nothing, nothing at all," said Bellum, all signs of anguish on its face passing.  
  
As they walked on Jam talked to Clodo.  
  
"Are you still suspicious?" asked Jam.  
  
"Yeah," said Clodo, "I wouldn't stand downwind of it."  
  
"No," said Jam, "About this path. Isn't it a bit too easy? I mean, why didn't it show it to us before?"  
  
"I don't know," sighed Clodo wearily. Jam stopped talking. She guessed Clodo had enough to worry about with carrying the Thing of Power, and the possible end of the world resting on her shoulders, without having to worry about weird butt-ugly possible-fake-lisping used-to-be fobbits. 


	5. Pot noodles, Hubert and she thinks she's...

How long has it been since I've updated? I shudder to think... Sorry everyone, been mega-mega busy, and here's chapter 5!  
  
Chapter 5 - Pot noodles, Hubert and she think's she's all that  
  
"I say they went this way," said Legless.  
  
"I say this way," said Giblet, pointing in the complete opposite direction.  
  
"Oh yes, bitches need to know directions in their discos," said Legless sarcastically.  
  
"Well, it's not exactly hard to track boffs, is it?" asked Giblet, "You just follow the Nutri-Grain wrappers."  
  
"Slimeball."  
  
"Powerball finish."  
  
"Pot belly."  
  
"Pot noodle."  
  
"Shut up," said Begorn, "Why don't we go this way?" For he had spotted some footprints leading into the forest, and a badge half buried in the dirt - 'HI! I'M FUNKY FERRY!"  
  
"Hopefully I'll get to give this back to her," sighed Begorn. "Come! We must away. Our dear friends may be in terrible danger, and we might be seconds too late to save them from danger."  
  
"Can we have a Pot Noodle first?" asked Giblet.  
  
"Aye."  
  
After eating a Pot Noodle, they set off into the forest.  
  
"Are you sure it's safe in here, Begorn?" asked Giblet, glancing nervously around him, "Even the toilets of Toria were reasonably well-lit."  
  
"Awww, is diddums afraid of the dark?" asked Legless, "Does he want his teddy-weddy?"  
  
"How did you know about Hubert? I mean, shut up highlights."  
  
"Nose job - that hasn't worked."  
  
"'I Love Harry Potter' club."  
  
"'I Hate Everyone' club."  
  
"Boff."  
  
"Bitch."  
  
"Shut up," said Kandalf.  
  
"Yeah," said Begorn, "Hey - wait a minute!" He turned, and saw Kandalf sitting up in a tree. "KANDALF!"  
  
"That's my name, don't wear it out," she said cheerily.  
  
"But...but...but..." said Giblet.  
  
"Wow...Giblet is lost for words," said Legless, "That's a change!"  
  
"Shut up, goldfish. Sorry Kandalf, but...aren't you supposed to be dead?"  
  
"What? Oh yeah...did you know I used to do snorkelling? Well, I got sucked down the U-bend, pulled out a snorkel, and swam back to the surface. Then the Lord of the Chickens, who's an old friend of mine, gave me a lift to Bluewater so that I could get some new stuff, then brought me here," she said, but then shuddered. "But let's just say I now know - in intimate detail - the magical journey that starts with the flush of every toilet. Especially one that hasn't been flushed for centuries..."  
  
Everyone else trembled.  
  
"I don't care!" said Kandalf happily, "Revenge is sweet. I'll teach that big dumbo not to call..."  
  
"But you look...different, somehow, Kandalf," said Legless.  
  
"Oh yeah! I've had my Nimbus 2001 updated to a Firebolt. Also I am no longer 'Kandalf the spaghetti stains'. Now I have switched to Ariel, I keep my clothes whiter than white! Well - pinker than pink. Meet 'Kandalf the Championship Pinks!'"  
  
"Oooooh," said everyone.  
  
"We ought to use that on Giblet's underwear," tittered Legless. Yes, tittered.  
  
"Shut up eyelash curlers."  
  
"Dumbo."  
  
"Pathfinder badge."  
  
"2nd in a Toilet brush lookalike contest."  
  
"HEY!" said Giblet, "I won that."  
  
"Point taken," smirked Legless.  
  
"Come," said Kandalf, "Let us go to Megoras."  
  
"What about the fobbits?" asked Begorn.  
  
"They're fine. I - er - saw them," said Kandalf.  
  
"Oh...OK," said Begorn. As they set off, Kandalf chuckled.  
  
"Heh heh heh... suckers."  
  
******  
  
"Are we nearly there?" asked Ferry, "I don't mean to complain, but it's kinda uncomfortable to hang upside down."  
  
"We are in The Green Mile before Diehard," said Meeweird "Soon we will reach our Final Destination."  
  
"Cool."  
  
"So what are we going to do when we get there?" asked Ferry.  
  
"I would like to stomp on Sarumeanie with my Bigfoot, and make him Scream, but we must be Down to Earth. We will probably cause him much pain, but he'll Get Over It. Sadly."  
  
"Do you know much about Moron?" asked Ferry.  
  
"She thinks She's All That," said Meeweird, "She thinks The World is not Enough, and wants Middle School entirely in her power. She has Nine Thingchavs, who are all Legally Blonde. But I have Men in Black - 2! With your help, we can win."  
  
"Awwwww, ain't you sweet?" said Ferry.  
  
"Cool!" said Alippin.  
  
*****  
  
They walked to Megoras. What they saw when they arrived was a massive castle; they would have thought it was that, had it not said outside 'WELCOME TO MEGORAS! CHILDREN UNDER 5 ADMITTED FREE!!!'  
  
"Where the hell are we?" asked Giblet as they got nearer.  
  
"Told you bitches were terrible at Geography," smirked Legless.  
  
"Shut up tree hugger."  
  
"Mud brain."  
  
"Head + shoulders."  
  
"Stinker."  
  
"Jerk."  
  
"Loser."  
  
"Shut up," said Kandalf and Begorn.  
  
"We have arrived at Megoras," said Kandalf, "Due to a low budget for wars, they opened up the home of Theory and the Riders of Wogan."  
  
They approached the gate, where there was a toll booth.  
  
"I say, chaps, who goes there?" asked a man inside, "It'll cost you £10 to enter, unless you have a season ticket."  
  
"We wish to see Theory," said Kandalf.  
  
"Visiting hours are between 10 and 5, no meetings without appointments except at 11 on the first Sunday of every month-"  
  
"Shut up," said Kandalf, and hit him on the head with her staff.  
  
"Why don't you do that with Legless and Giblet?" asked Begorn as they strolled in past the unconscious guard.  
  
"Cos Giblet has such a thick skull he wouldn't feel it," said Legless.  
  
"Oi!" said Giblet, "Be glad she doesn't, poodle head, or you might muss up your hair."  
  
"Birds nest."  
  
"Verrucas."  
  
"Head lice."  
  
"Perfect scores on tests."  
  
"Criminal record."  
  
"Shut up," said Kandalf, and hit them both on the head.  
  
"Argggh...my hair," said Legless.  
  
"I didn't feel a thing," said Giblet.  
  
*****  
  
Hope you all enjoyed that. Yes, here are CALLOUTS!  
  
freakanature - I'm glad you enjoy it so much! Sorry I haven't updated! 24th June? Whoa...  
  
gone-to-jarmadanga - Well, actually I finished this nearly a year ago and gave it to all my friends as a Christmas present. Can you imagine, 150 pages, eight copies of it? That's... 1200 pages! I had to work a LOT at my dad's office to pay for using their printer... Do you know what scanning and attaching DOES to a person? IT KILLS YOUR SOUL!  
  
littlefurryscrubcreature - Well, we thinkses it's good that you likeses it so much, yes we do, precious, very good indeed.  
  
Two Bored Idiots - Well, no attack chickens is ALWAYS a good thing, so I'd better update, hadn't I?  
  
Daemon Express - All the way through? Whoa... 


	6. Blazin' Squad and a flumpflewumpfle

I know that I hardly ever update this story, but I am going to try and finish it! I just have a lot of other stories that I write as well. And I hope you all have a really great Christmas!  
  
Chapter 6 - Blazin' Squad and a flumpflewumpfle  
  
They turned round and continued down the different path, Jam still watching Bellum suspiciously. Bellum noticed Jam was watching her suspiciously.  
  
"Why you watching me suspiciously, Jam?" it asked.  
  
"No reason. By the way," smiled Jam - she had an idea - "What is Clodo's surname again?"  
  
"Why?" said Bellum, looking alarmed, "You forgotten? Why do you need to know?"  
  
"Humour me," grinned Jam.  
  
"Leg- Leg-" stammered Bellum.  
  
"Hurry up," said Clodo, catching on, "I haven't seen someone finding it so hard to talk since Albo starred as Titania in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'."  
  
"Leggingth," said Bellum sadly.  
  
Clodo gasped, "You're lisping again!"  
  
"I know," moaned Bellum, with a puppy dog expression, "I think I have a mouth ulther."  
  
"Awww," said Clodo.  
  
"I didn't want to thay anything coth you would think I wanted the Thing again," it sighed, tears brimming very convincingly.  
  
"Fiend," muttered Jam.  
  
"Don't worry," said Clodo, "We don't think that."  
  
"I do," muttered Jam.  
  
"What?" asked Clodo.  
  
"Er... I do not believe such a thing possible," said Jam, crossing her fingers behind her back.  
  
"Good," said Clodo, "Bellum needs all our help to get past this bad phase. Only when we work together successfully can we work apart."  
  
"I knew getting you that 'Inner Peace' book was going to come back to bite me in the-"  
  
"Leth keep going," said Bellum.  
  
They continued down the road, Jam and Bellum not talking to each other. From the way Bellum glared at her, stole her last rolo and slipped green mambas into her sleeping bag, Jam got the idea Bellum may not like her.  
  
*****  
  
After many days of travelling they arrived in the National Trust section of the Whiffy Marshes. There were plants, trees, day trippers and signs suggesting you join the National Trust Club.  
  
"Can we join the Nathional Trutht Club?" asked Bellum.  
  
"No," said Jam.  
  
"Why not?" asked Clodo.  
  
Thirty pounds later, now with 'I'm a member of the National Trust' badges, they continued down the road. They decided to stop in a clearing, to read the pamphlet.  
  
"Oooooh, we get fwee entry to loadth of plathes!" said Bellum excitedly, "Fondue, the Crithpy Mountainth, the Mire, Leg End..."  
  
"Leg End?" exclaimed Clodo, "That's my house!"  
  
"Now ith Nathional Trutht property," said Bellum.  
  
Clodo grabbed the brochure.  
  
'Come to Leg End! See the wildlife underneath the beds, and the fungi in the fridge! Fun for all the family, a traditional pint-sized home!'  
  
"'PINT SIZED?'" cried Jam.  
  
"Ith what everyone callth fobbith," said Bellum, "Fobbit ith a thwear word. You're called pint-thizes."  
  
"Pint thizes?" asked Jam incredulously, "What the hell is that?"  
  
"No," said Clodo, "Pint sizes."  
  
"Oh yes, that's much better," said Jam.  
  
Suddenly some loud shouts filled the air around them.  
  
"I say, there's a marker!"  
  
"What letter does it say? Maybe it'll help us solve the puzzle!" Several men burst into the clearing, all eyes fixed on the marker. But then they stumbled onto the fobbits hiding places. Literally.  
  
"Ow!" said Jam crossly, "Less of the kicking."  
  
"What the hell are you?" asked the one in the middle, obviously in charge.  
  
"We are fob- pint sizes," said Clodo, not thinking it was best to swear in front of humans.  
  
"Pint sizes?" asked the middle one, "What the hell is that?"  
  
"Fobbits," said Jam.  
  
All the men gasped and drew their swords.  
  
"How dare you swear in front of Andremir, son of the steward of Fondue?" asked one of them.  
  
"Shut UP!" hissed Andremir, "We agreed to tell everyone we are members of Blazin' Squad."  
  
"Sorry boss," they all said.  
  
"Blazin' Squad?" asked Jam sceptically, "Really?"  
  
"Yeah, I know, it sucked as a cover," said Andremir, "But I didn't expect to meet anyone except Urks, and my bedside cabinet is smarter than ten of them put together. But then again, it is made from a talking tree... but anyway, what are you guys doing out here?"  
  
"We are on a quest to destroy the Thing of Powuuurk," said Jam, and collapsed, wishing she hadn't taught Clodo to do a sleeper hold.  
  
"What's wrong with her?" asked Andremir worriedly.  
  
"Oh, we're just hungry..." said Clodo hopefully.  
  
"Don't worry - once she wakes up, you can come to a place of refuge, and eat."  
  
"Where?" asked Clodo.  
  
"THE TOP-SECRET LEVEL-THREE CLEARANCE NO-ONE CAN ENTER GIVE THE PASSWORD SECRET HIDEOUT!" cheered all the men. They loved saying that.  
  
"Riiiight," said Clodo.  
  
"So who are in your company?" asked Andremir, "Are there any others around?"  
  
"Yeeeeaaanoooo," said Clodo, realising that Bellum had skedaddled.  
  
"What was that?" asked Andremir.  
  
"No! It's just us," she beamed.  
  
"Oh good," said Andremir. "And by the looks of it-" she noticed that Jam had awoken and immediately kicked Clodo - "your companion is awake, so we may head off." They immediately walked away towards a cave with a stream in front, which was about a mile away.  
  
"So what are you doing out here?" asked Andremir.  
  
"We were members of a Company of Nine," said Clodo, clamping a hand over Jam's mouth, "And we are travelling to Bordor."  
  
"So where are the others?"  
  
"We departed most of them a short while ago. The other 'dropped out' of our tale a long time ago."  
  
"Dropped out? What do you mean?"  
  
"She has flown the nest, pushed up the daisies, gone into the light, is lying in an eternal sleep, handed in her cheque, taken her last pension, cashed in her life insurance, has moved underground, is having a long blink, popped her clogs, six foot under, will never again see the light of day..."  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
"What?" asked Andremir.  
  
"Oh for the love of creamcake," said Jam.  
  
"Mmmmm...creamcake," said Clodo.  
  
"She's dead!" said Jam exasperatedly.  
  
"Who?" asked Andremir, "Which member of your company?"  
  
"Kandalf," said Jam, "Kandalf is dead."  
  
There was a loud gasp from the men. Andremir was silent.  
  
"Did she die nobly?" he asked.  
  
"As nobly as you can being sucked into a U-bend," sighed Clodo.  
  
The men sniffled as one.  
  
"These are grave tidings," said Andremir, "She owed me money for the cake sale. But who else is in your company?"  
  
"Ferry and Alippin, two fob- pint sizes; Legless, a boff from Berkwood; Giblet, a bitch; Begorn, bearer of Clearasil, the light sabre that ran out of battery and was re-charged-"  
  
"Clearasil?" breathed Andremir. There was a loud gasp from the men. "There are prophecies! Izzybore's accessory shall be brought to Bordor, guarded by a pint size and a man who bears Clearasil! These are great tidings indeed! But sadly, it cannot be true - for the daughter of the steward of Fondue, at the moment Tiramisu, was supposed to have gone on the quest also. But she is in Ibiza."  
  
"Ummmm...." said Clodo.  
  
"But that only makes eight. Who was the ninth?"  
  
"Ummmm..." said Clodo, "Thing is....it was Tiramisu."  
  
"What in the Middle School are you talking about?"  
  
"Tiramisu did come," said Clodo.  
  
"Tiramisu!" said Andremir, "Tiramisu! I'm her brother! How is she?"  
  
"Ummmmm...." said Jam.  
  
"For I love my sister deeply," said Andremir, "And have vowed to kill thee who should bring me news of her death."  
  
"Ummmmm...." said Jam worriedly.  
  
"We dunno," said Clodo, "We left in a hurry, but as we left she was alive, well, safe and sane."  
  
'Well, alive, anyway,' she thought to herself.  
  
"Goodie," said Andremir, "For I like you two, but that would not discern me from killing you."  
  
"Well, it's good she's fine isn't it!" beamed Clodo.  
  
"But I thought she was..." whispered Jam confusedly. Clodo hit her.  
  
"What was that?" asked Andremir.  
  
"What my friend here," said Clodo, clapping a hand over Jam's mouth again, "meant to say was that Tiramisu is finer than fine. She was fighting fit last I saw her!"  
  
'Fighting herself into a fit', thought Clodo.  
  
"Good. But what is Izzybore's accessory?" he asked, "Do you have it?"  
  
"Maybe," said Clodo.  
  
"DO YOU HAVE IT?"  
  
"OK, OK, I do!" cried Clodo, "So sue me."  
  
"So what is Izzybore's accessory?" asked Andremir.  
  
"It's a flumpflewumpfle."  
  
"A what?"  
  
"I said, it's a flumpflewumpfle."  
  
"A what?"  
  
"Never mind," said Clodo quickly, "What are you guys doing out here?"  
  
"We have just joined the National Trust!" said Andremir, "And we were trying to do one of the trails, and got a little off course."  
  
"Oh," said Clodo.  
  
"Yeah, they're tricky," said Jam.  
  
*****  
  
Pixael28 - Thanks! I know that I take ages between updates, but it's because - OK, I have no good excuse. (hangs head in shame)  
  
Beloved Fool - Whoops, sorry! (hits head that is still hanging in shame repeatedly) Glad you liked Haldir and Legless.  
  
Gone-to-jarmadanga - In answer to your first question, no, she doesn't. In answer to your second question (which wasn't really a question) I didn't have hundreds, but I did have 126. In answer to your third question, they come from the far-off land of Pharillys, where there are Wob-Wobs, meffies, cute things with big ears and burrills. And in answer to your fourth question, I don't get my homework done, I get stressed instead. Hope this callout has been enlightening.  
  
Freakanature - I'm going to try and keep going, I just have a lot of homework right now and my mocks are in January...  
  
Michaela - I've actually already written it, I just need to put it up on fanfiction. I had this entire story finished by Christmas last year, it was only after it was written that my friend suggested putting it on here. That's how I was introduced to fanfiction, actually...  
  
Eirlys - Wow, thanks! I'll send them on! And it isn't on hold, I'm just, um, lazy.  
  
Have a Merry (and Pippin) Christmas everyone! 


	7. Teenage lusts and Kandalf's X ray specs

Why does it take me so long to update this? Sorry everyone, but I have so many other stories as well to be doing. I will try to be more faithful to this story, because it was my first one – the beginning of it all... So enjoy!  
  
Chapter 7 – Teenage lusts and Kandalf's X-ray glasses  
  
They entered the hall. Inside there were many gift shops, but at the end of the hall was an old man. Sitting next to him was a girl with flowing golden hair, so shiny and healthy looking she should audition for a L'Oreal Elvive advert, wearing the latest Gucci ensemble, and a midget with greasy hair and a twitch.  
  
"Cor, she's hot," said Giblet.  
  
"Who, the midget?" asked Legless, "But then again, they say you fancy people who have the same sort of attractiveness rating as you, and if you're gay..."  
  
"Shut up Cinderella," said Giblet.  
  
"Wicked Witch of the West."  
  
"Can't-pass-mirror-without-looking-in-it."  
  
"Ugly duckling."  
  
"Shut up," said Kandalf, "These are: Theory, the king of Wogan; Squirmtongue, his advisor; and Kéowyn, his beautiful niece."  
  
"Hey baby," said Legless, and winked at her. She smiled at him, and then her eyes lit up as she spotted Begorn. She whisked out her mobile, and started texting frantically.  
  
"Don't even try, smudged mascara," hissed Giblet.  
  
"Spotty nose."  
  
"Split ends."  
  
"Dragged through a hedge backwards."  
  
"Shhhh," said Kandalf. They stood before the king.  
  
"Howdy," said Kandalf, "My name is Kandalf. We come seeking your aid, under the advice of Mayomer, your nephew."  
  
"Senseless clot," mumbled Theory, "I told the dunderhead to stop inviting people home without phoning me first."  
  
"Calm down, Theory," said Kéowyn, who winked at Begorn, "And who are your handsome companions?"  
  
Giblet and Legless blushed.  
  
"I, my lady," said Legless, grabbing her hand and kissing it, "am Legless, of the boffs of Berkwood, and never have I met a lady of such radiance, such beauty..."  
  
"Aw, shucks," smiled Kéowyn, "But what about the others, before you get carried away?" She looked at Begorn, but Giblet pushed in front.  
  
"I'm Giblet!" he grinned, and made a low bow, "And of all the jewels I have worn to discos, never have I seen one that sparkles like your eyes."  
  
"Yeah yeah," she said, eyes still on Begorn, "And who is this?"  
  
"I am Begorn," he said simply.  
  
"Why don't you tell me about yourself, Begorn?" she said fluttering her eyelashes.  
  
"Well, I lived in the wild. I know how to hunt, and I am heir to the throne of Fondue, I fight with Clearasil, the light sabre that ran out of battery and is newly charged, and am gifted with the arts of healing."  
  
"Really?" she said, smiling at him, "That's so interesting. You and I should talk about it sometime...over dinner..."  
  
"Stop flirting Kéowyn!" said Theory.  
  
Squirmtongue hissed, "Why did you let them in? Now Kéowyn is infatuated with one of them. How can you get rid of them now?"  
  
"Shut up Squirmtongue!" said Kandalf, "I am an old friend of Theory. I know that you are in league with Sarumeanie."  
  
Everyone gasped.  
  
"How?" he squealed.  
  
"I have been gifted with X-ray glasses. Look!" With great flourish she whisked out a letter from Squirmtongue's jacket. She read it out loud.  
  
'To Squirmtongue, continue to tell me all that Theory does. You know that this is essential to the rising of History. Hey wait a minute, why am I writing this? Why don't I just phone you? Yours sincerely, Sarumeanie. PS Burn this after you receive it!''  
  
"Why didn't you burn it?" asked Begorn.  
  
"I was worried I'd forget," he sulked.  
  
Meanwhile, Theory drew himself up to full height.  
  
"This is too much, old boy! Sarumeanie is a rogue, and you have been telling him what I do, you stinking turncoat! You are banned from Megoras, and your children, and your children's children!"  
  
Squirmtongue looked blank.  
  
"Go away," said Kandalf.  
  
"Anyway..." said Kéowyn, after Squirmtongue had stomped off, "Tell me a bit more about yourself, Begorn..."  
  
"Don't bother," said Kandalf, polishing her staff with Giblet's beard, "He's already in love with another boff called Amwen."  
  
"Oh," she said, disappointed, "So!" she said, turning to Legless, "What did you say your name was, Master boff?"  
  
"Legless," he said, "Prince of the boffs of Berkwood."  
  
"Really," said Kéowyn, fluttering her eyelashes, "So tell me, Prince Legless, are all the boffs in Berkwood so handsome?"  
  
"Oh, I'm nothing special..." blushed Legless.  
  
"Yeah he is," said Giblet, "Special Ed!"  
  
"SHUT UP FOBBIT!" yelled Legless.  
  
Everyone in the hall gasped.  
  
"No profanity in my hall, what what!" spluttered Theory, "My dear Kéowyn, they are not suitable boyfriends. Why not just ask the nice boy down the road to the prom..."  
  
"But one of them is," she said, winking at Begorn. Begorn blushed.  
  
"Anyway..." said Kandalf, smiling slightly, "We come with news. Sarumeanie is sending an assault against you."  
  
"The rogue! This is not jolly spiffing. How many?"  
  
"Twenty-"  
  
"That's not bad!"  
  
"-thousand."  
  
"Oh dear," sighed Theory, "This really is too much for someone my age. What do you recommend we do?"  
  
"I say that we should all go to Helms Sheep – tis a refuge in times of need for the folk of Wogan."  
  
"Can I come?" asked Kéowyn.  
  
"No," said Theory.  
  
"Why?" she asked.  
  
"Someone has to water the plants."  
  
"Can't Mayomer do it?"  
  
"No, he must fight."  
  
"But I want to come," she moaned, and winked at Begorn again. Begorn, involuntarily, found himself smiling back.  
  
"I'll think about it," sighed Theory.  
  
"Safe!" she said.  
  
"Boooo," muttered Begorn.  
  
"What was that?" she asked.  
  
"Err...loo – where's the loo?"  
  
"That way," said Theory.  
  
"I can show him!" said Kéowyn.  
  
"She doesn't need to really-" he said, but she had already jumped to her feet and was dragging him off down the corridor.  
  
As they walked along, Kéowyn continued with the interrogation.  
  
"So where do you come from, Begorn?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.  
  
"Um, Riverstour. I grew up there, cos my Dad was the heir to the throne of Fondue, but he gave up his title, like I was going to."  
  
"Ooooh, what a fascinating family history..." she said. "Here's the bathroom."  
  
He went in, waited for ten minutes, then came out. She was still there.  
  
"There you are!" she said, "I was just about to come in and look for you."  
  
"Oh...no need for that! Come on, let's go back." He set off very fast for the throne room, but Kéowyn kept up.  
  
"So what's Amwen like?" she asked, "Like me?"  
  
"Aye," he said.  
  
"Better? Or worse?"  
  
"Err..." He faced a dilemma. If he said Kéowyn was better, she would never give up, and he'd be unfaithful to Amwen. If he said Amwen was better, she would have her feelings hurt. If he said they were the same, she would think she was his type, and again, never give up.  
  
"Err...you're...different."  
  
"Variety is the spice of life," said Kéowyn.  
  
Damn, thought Begorn.  
  
When they arrived back at the Throne room, Kandalf turned. She had been deeply absorbed in discussion and a game of Crash Bandicoot with Theory.  
  
"Ah, there you are. We have decided that Kéowyn, you must stay here. It's too dangerous for you to be in a battlefield."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Sorry Kéowyn," said Begorn, "Never mind."  
  
"We leave tomorrow!" said Kandalf.  
  
"Well," said Kéowyn flirtily, "I'll have to make the most of you until you leave then..."  
  
"Why not tonight?" pleaded Begorn.  
  
Everyone stared at him.  
  
"Well...we want to get there in plenty of time," he said.  
  
"Very well," said Theory, "Saddle the hobbyhorses!"  
  
As the preparations were made, Kéowyn came up to Begorn.  
  
"So no sooner have we met, we must part..." she said, "Almost like Romeo and Juliet..."  
  
"Oh no," he said, "More like...err...Rob and Julie."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Err...they met, then had to part, and ended up hating each other."  
  
"Really," said Kéowyn sceptically, "I've never heard that story."  
  
"Yes, well, it's famous in Fondue."  
  
"Really?" she asked, "I took a degree in Fondue literature."  
  
"Err...oh look! Megoras snow domes!" he said, and ran over to a gift shop.  
  
***  
  
freakanature – Flumpflewumpfle? Hmm, where did I think of that?... Ah yes. It was when I was tired and collapsed onto the sofa, and just went 'Flumpflewumpfle'. It's a collapsing noise. With emphasis on the FLUMPF and the WUMPF.  
  
Pixael28 – I made a mini-excuse at the beginning of the chapter, but not a good enough one... ah well... sorry! It's so sweet you're still reviewing, you've stuck with me from nearly the beginning! (sends virtual muffins)  
  
Eirlys – Flumpflewumpfle! That IS a good name for a pet! Maybe I'll name one of the Ringwraiths after it in my other LOTR parody...  
  
Woundup Orange – Ahem. ParOdy. Not parOOdy. Unless my story is not a parody, but some completely new form of parody which needs a new word, so you dubbed it a paroody? Eh? 


End file.
